Evening Star Newspaper, June 14, 1882, Page 3

THE EV. NG STAR: WASHINGTO THE TEXAS cowBOY. A Member of the Craft Has a Kindly Word for Him. “Pony Bill.” claiming to be an ex-cowboy, bas been writing up the characteristics of the ¢lass in the Macon (Ga.) Telegraph. He says that the name cowboy originated in Texas, and 4s applied to those hired to herd and handle cattle raised wild on the prairies. The life being outdoor and full of hardship and danger, re- quires a healthy, wiry. active man to endure it. Nearly all those following it for wages are young men, hence the name cowboys. Cattle ™man and stock man is the more dignified term ‘used in referring to cattle owners and live stock Faisera. In old Mexico, California, Nevada and | Arizona, wi ards are largely employed | in the busin where Spanish is more or | less en, cowboy is called a Vaquero, | 2,4 cowherd. In Buenos Ayres atid of South America.on account of | he is called a Guacho, gicah- | homeless one. In| Anustratia he is called ock rider. In Colo- | rado, Wyoming, and nearly all the Rocky moun- | tain grazing region. he goes by the ridiculous Rame of cowp e A full trai cho, a moth r. cutiit consists of foreman, cook, two peinters, two rs, and ith this foree from 1,000 to | om 2,000 to 3,000 an n driven eight or ten always of daage: but it ison often lasting © and sand in his to™ with it ea to enable him done. Between | hours on guard | aro | , | nd buckine ponies, | f lo: entirely gentle, but v8 more or les wild and intractal ver needed for use they have to be “roped” (lassc ‘8 son of the: feels fresh and lively. will buck This bucking ver buck. Bueking consists « lowering the head, and j it, just as a buck ¢ does when killin, fience the naz f an inexperien sut bucking, he apt to wis! ad been born. The jar simply have sometim | fered con Jungs, and died from buckin: head of ponies, accord: for an outfit. Th < how the little gras: * will carr, ler and riding rig pe 200 to Jope that covers easi There are thus: In winter the j ed for, run loose spring the outfits ¢ al round-up. day all the ca lius of ten mi more are driven together and “rounded-up ” ene plac heouttit separately its own L and short yes marked. Ii req id turned ov uts out” and he dot cattle. re gathered, c! to them at the date till the inelement 1 round-up sea- Sit moves it car- king utensi smooth, oys sleep, blankets, very seldom po: a tent. buxom prai sings songs every ni le. Lo! the Indian. is becoming rather suppress Tess, but still in the far aw Dorthwest just enough Jeep cowd The ponies are to the range on hoof in care of some of the most trusty boys. The cattle are either sold outright or shipped by rail to the | great cattle markets of St. Louis, Kansas City. | and Chicago. Most Texasand southwestern cattle get to the two former, all northwestern and many ‘azo. One cowboy to every quired to go along with the | eattle to keep them “punched up” from ly down in the cars and being trampled to | by the oti I his is how the * | plorado name. Ever in the transit are un yards, where they are .feed and water for four hours, | et and to pre- Arrived at market the cattle are ui stock ‘ds and e are re- | Poss’ dyke, dubiousty | That’s all there is j read M waste of his hard-earned money. We simply wish it known that it isthe few and not the imajority who do this. Very many cowboys ride the range all summer and return east and south to spend the winter in quiet enjoyment with friends and relatives. Very many cowboys are from the south proper, especiaily Tennessee, Kentucky and Geor In the suppression of Indian oufbreaks and swift annihilation of border outlaws, the cow- boy has proven always a most reliable and effec- tive instrament. The Texas Rangers are nearly all cowboys, and cowboys of grit and leather at that. The writer has a very dear friend a cow- boy, who was last heard from as a government scout near the White river (Ute) agency, in Col- orado, pay $150 per month, and a royal good time during peace. As population increases, and the grazing regions are settled up. there will come a time when the raising of wild cattle on government lands, as at preseat, will be impossible. Then the cowboy, like OUello, “his occupation gone,” will have to seek his living in some other industry. Natural inclinations will lead him to outdoor camp life, and as long as he can secure such work he will prefer freighting and packing to the drudgery of hiring out asa ranch hand. Stripped of his rig, than which there is none more becoming or picturesque in the world, all his marked peculiarities of man- ner and language ground off smooth, he will be reduced to the common level of common- place peop Possibly the change may better his happiness and usefulness, for it is a truth that mounted men, leading a nomadic life, are bad when bothered—witness Arabs, Bashi Bazouks, Tartars, our own horseback Indians, and ya-as, our cowboys. Too often the most daring criminals are from horseback people. it we better to unhorse the cowboy, get him to part his hair in © silk hats, and rig himself ar faced shirts, and ry affected by our vast horde of use- fed non-producers. He is made of ‘The Code Fully Explained. From the Brooklyn Eagie. “My dear,” said M: jpoopendyke, examin- ing the baby’s feet critically, to see if they were both alike, ‘‘my dear, I see that one of the rs, or capital, has been hurt; do you know facts about it ? How hurt? what did it say?” asked Mr. ¢ from the glass and strap- ng his razor. “I don’t remember exactly, but he went down to a slaughter-house to get something for his family, and somebody shot him in the legs.” “« 's the way it happened, was it?” de- manded Mr. Spoopendyke, grinning through his lather, “ He didn’t go to his family for a pair and somebody shot him in the slaughter- did he? Nor he didn’t go down to his slaughter-house, and somebody shot the family! That wasn't the way it read, No-0-0, I think not.” repli od Mrs. Spoopen- “Tm suge it was something puse and legs. Do you know ut asiausht¢ it happened Yes, I know how it happened !” mocked Mr. yke. peeing away at his visage with If T hadn't found out away from | home I'd always been puzzled about it, though. Two gentleme ta duel, and one got shot. it.” * I knew there'd he some trouble as soon as I about those strikes,” confidently continued Spoopendyke. hat’s the strike to do with it?” vociferated Mr. Spoopendyke. “Think he struck for an- t2 a notion he struck for more been a bad 2 Spoopendyke, rather impressed with the combined originality and utility of that class of strik id he " queried Mrs. . “It must have been a cannon or else he held his legs in front of each Spoop ball, othe rhat’s the way he did it,” moaned Mr.Spoop- endy ‘They always do that. When they are fighting a duel they sit down like a tailor or uTurk. What d’ye think they fight with, forts? Got some kind of a vague idea that they fight with line of battle ships? Who said anything about cannon balls? Pistols, I tell ye!” They fought with pistols, and one of them hit the other! Roll that information around in your ten acre intelligence!” “Certainly,” faltered Mrs. Spoopendyke. “But tell_me, dear, why should one man shoot an- other for goin: the slaughter house?” “Holy herring!” ejaculated Mr. Spoopendyke. “He went there to get shot. It was agreed upon. The man who shot him had reflected on his honor and he went there to satisfy it.” “And did it satisfy his honor to shoot him in the legs?” asked Mrs. Spoopendyke. “That was as near as he could get to it. I tell you that when a man fights a duet he wipes out an insult, whether he gets shot in the legs or the ear. It makes no difference.” “I should think it would,” murmured Mrs. Spoopendyke. “It would tome. So his honor is ail right now, is it?” “Or course It is,” replied Mr. Spoopendyke, wiping his face. ‘Suppose you can reason on the subject without any further information from me?” “I guess so,” ruminated Mrs. Spoopendyke. “As L understand it, if a man’s honor is hurt all he’s got to do is get shot _in the legs, though I don’t see why he didn’t shoot himself, unless it was that he couldn't reach around.” “That's just the reason!” roared Mr. Spoopen- yke. “He shot at himself in the looking glass all the morning, and couldn’t make it work, so he hired a man to do it for him! It took your shot tower intellect to see into it! What you | want now is a squint in one eye and some dod gasted friends to interfere to be a revised edi- tion of the measly code! If you only had some- body to chalk off six paces on you and a squad of police with a bench warrant, you'd be a reg- shipped to points tward: some go to | Ular Bladensburg! I'm going out to fight a Furope alive, some to packing tutes and’ best | duel abd get shot! ‘Think you'd understand it ean! » to wholesale butehers, some to | then? If I had a bullet through both lege, Hiinois and Lowa farms to be cora-fattened.some | Would you want any more information?” to distilleries to be slopped, a few are soid for work oxen, and if it be cold weather many are slauzhtered and shipped abroad in refrigerators. After -de the town cowpuncher, be provided with return passes, Tolls out for his old range, maybe 2.000 miles away. Most of the southw n roads run a rough kind of emis free, especially region where competing railroads are larzely dependent on their live stock tra efully fostered by | Arrived back on his old stamping grounds, be seeks sc kind of work for support during the le he lives, | he is sure to hir ut as a cow- first opportunity, and joyously # lite of the n the hardships and ro- trait » cowboys are, we will be what they Being i material the task is di eyare half angel, tenderly liberal | mrades in disiress, and half devil, indi ns of a weunde: the use th and spur ¢ ily unmindful during the t of the knife and | the red hot torture of the brandir An- other writer, mindful of some whoys | Who have stamped their names indelibly on bor- | a a d that the now unwritten-up ming novelist will be a cowboy. cowboys, and they are the best, are bre to the business from childhood, but the major- ity are simply wild young fellows from all call- ings and grades of society, brim fall of romance and enerzetie force and a thirst for adventure on the plains. With present facilities for reach- ing the border by rail, thousands such are pour- Ing there daily. Some tert or twelve years ago the cowboy was ignorant, brutish lout from Texas, but to-day the man who tackles the av- erage cowboy in conversation will find him quite up to the modernisms of the age. The cowboys are made up of just such adventurous elements as armies are recruited from in time war. college life, icos, tooth butchers, oune Fallroaders, youths with souls above office work and counter hopping, very young men from the south who were never taught any way to be self-sustaining—all these and many others arrive out west, find no room for non-producers in that land of rush and rustle, and gladly turn to the free and romantic, but terribly hard lite of a cowboy. When round-ups and trail work is over men and trailmen congregate in the towns of live stock regions, to have, as they express It, “a little time of their own.” It is then that occur those bloody tragedies whieh, glaringly sub-headed, blazon the columns ‘ional sheets. cowboy, a8 a rule, abundance of physical courage. A few work with broncho ponies and wild cattle thin cane be male scare easily. When the Cowboy fights, ts desperately, and gener- ally having a forty-four caliber pistol at his hip, he uses it too often rather freely and ‘effectively of the moment. “ When he shoots but seldom shoots at all unless with. We do not detend gim shameful orgies nor reckless a HE | comparative analy | these “No, dear,” sighed Mrs. Spoopendyke, and as her husband tossed his shaving brush into the baby’s crib and slammed out the door, she began to think that a man shouldn't keep his honor in his legs if they couldn't take better care of it. YF ‘The Causcs and Cure of Old Age. From the Gentleman's Magazine. L. Langer has recently been engaged in the of human fat at different, ages. He finds that infant fat is harder than that ofadults or old men, that there are oil elobules in our fat but none in that of babies; the microscope shows one or two oil globules in every fat cell of the adult, while very few have fat crystals. The fat cells of the infant contain no oil glabules, and nearly every cell contains fat crystals. ‘‘Infant fat forms a homogeneous, whit tallow-like mass, and melts at 45 hile adult fat standing in a warm parates into two Inyers; the lighter and er is a transparent yellow liquid which \difles below the freezing po of water, the wer layer is a granular orystaline mass melt- at 35 deg Infant fat’ contains 67.75. per cent of oleic acid, adult fat 89.80. Infant fat contains 28.97 per cent of palmitic acid, against 8.16 in the adult, and 3.28 of stearic acid against 2.04. These latter, the palmitic and stearic are the harder and less fusible, while the | oleic acid is the softer and more fusible consti- tuent of fata. No attempt is made to explain the reason of ferences, or to suggest any means by which we may reharden or repalmitize our fat, and thus regain our infant chubbiness. Old age is evidently due to changes of this kind, not only of the fat, but also ot the other materials of the body. The first step toward the discovery of the elixir of life, the “‘aurum potabile,” of the alchemist, is to determine the nature of changes, the next to ascertain thelr causes, and then to remove them. If, as we are so often told, there can be no effeet without a cause, there must be causes for the organic changes constituting decay and old age. Remove these, and we live forever. The theory ts beautifully simple. A Michigan Liar. “Let's see, they raise some wheat in Michigan, don’t they?” asked.a Schoharie granger of a Michi- gander. “Raise wheat! Who raises wheat? No, slr; decidedly no, sir. It raises itself. Why, if we undertook to cultivate wheat in that state it would run us out. There wouldn't be any place to put our house. good deal “Of course they do. know what we would ” ‘But — told that grasshoppers take a vor didn’t I don't do. The cussed stuff would run all over the state and drive us out | The entire American Toi The following extract trom a private letter, written by a well-kuown Buston gentleman, will be accepted, the Advertiser thinks, as a trustworthy presentation of one phase of the existing state of affairs in Ireland: I was sitting in the reading room of the Shel- burne hotel, Dublin, Thursday evening. when a quiet mari, evidently an English or Irish gen: tleman, moved up and began talking about the social stagnation of Dublin. This did not awaken my especial interest, but when he said he had just returned from the west of Ireland, I asked about the feeling and prospects there. In the course of an hour’s talk he told me, as follows: That he owned four estates In Ireland which he had not visited for twenty-nine years, having left their management entirely to agents. Ke- cently no rents whatever had been collected; and as his income from the estates was encum- bered by annuities, etc., to relations, which had | to be punctually paid, whether he got his rents or not, he found himself somewhat embarrassed. | His principal agent fell seriously ill, and seizing | the opportunity thus offered (for a visit while | the agent was in health might have looked like distrast or interference, a thing which, he | thought, landlords were too punctiliious about,) he came over from Mentone, where he was liv- ing, to examine into affairs personally. Hecame with the belief that his rents were low enough, |and that the tenants were unreasonable, and | perhaps dishonest. He convened his tenants, | and then spent some time In going about among them. The result was that he confessed himself “thoroughly converted.” Although his rents were not so high as on some other estates in | the neighborhood, he was convinced that they | had been forced ‘up too high. He made a re- duction to the poor law valuagion (‘‘Griffith’s”) —areduction amounting to six shillings and sixpence to the pound (a virtual confession that the rents were fifty per cent too high), and gave fifteen year leases on that basis. The result, he said, affected him extremely, for the tenants not only borrowed money of the banks to pay all arrears, but flocked to him with the voluble and earnest blessings the Irish peasant can in- yoke, and begged him to let them remit directly to him, without the intervention of agents. He said that although there wasa great differ- ence among estates, and between localities, he thought that there were many cases where rents were fixed at two or three times the proper sum, and that it seemed to him, after his visit, that the “no rent” program, in many districts, was a virtual protest and struggle against star- vation, ther than a political agitation. In other districts, of course, it was complicated with “home rule” and other issues, but in his neighborhood it was simply a stand of the tenant farmers for subsistence and existence. see cranes Affairs in Ireland. as Noted by an yarist, Signs of Modern Decadence. From the Londen Evening Standard. Mr. J. H. Mapleson has published the terms which Mme. Patti has accepted for another trip to the United States. Regarding this matter philosophically, without imputing a shadow of blame either to payer or payee, or even to the public, who virtually endorse this extravagant one must admit that the effect is demoral- izing. Working persons who have a hard strug- gle to make both ends meet will be shocked and isgusted, unreasonably, no doubt, but sin- cerely. Weak souls among them will be further urged upon a course of discontent too common already. The selfish fuxury of the rich is the most telling argument of the agitator. and he has a grandexample here. For Mr. Mapleson expects to recoup his outlay with inter- est, and prices must be raised proportionately. The speculation may prove unfortunate, but It is based upon experience and compari- son, no doubt. Fabulous sums paid fora brief and sensuous pleasure are a sign of decadence In her last days of freedom, Rome possessed an actor, the most famous of all time. When he had made the fortune which he thought sufti- cient, Rosclus declined to play for money. He we his services gratis for the amusement and instruction ef the people. It would be interest- ing to know what terms the great comedian was in the habit of receiving, and what fortune he thought equal to his dignity on retirement. If we may judge with any degree of truth the sala- ries of actors, free men like Roscins, by what is recorded ot the sums paid to. philosophers and lecturers in ancient times, they would almost bear comparison with Mme. Patti's rates, The rigorous Aristides accepted £4,000 trom Da- mianus for a single lecture; Herod, the younger, gave something like £80,000 for three discourses to an orator who pleased him; and to another, for asingle discourse, ten horses, ten porters, ten secretaries, and two beautiful young slaves, with nearly £40,000 in money. We have not yet reached such madness, but we seem to be travel- ing that way. = _—_.,.____ De Lam’ a Strayin’. [Exhortation ata colored camp meeting, The dialect is that of a Mississippi plantation. ] Look out, backslider, whar you walkin’? Make a misstep, stio’s you bo'n, I tell you what, it’s no use talkin’, Et you slip up, chile, you gone! De road 1s full er stumps and stubble, Ruts an’ sink holes eberywhar’, I spec’ dey'll gib you heap er trouble, >F you don’t stop yo? foolin’ dar. Ivs dark ez pitch an’ mighty cloudy, Spec’ de debbil’s walkin’ roun’, Fus’ thing you know he'll tell you “ howdy ”— Lif’ his hoof an’ stomp de groun’, ‘Man, can’t you see a sto’m’s a brewin’? Hear de awful thunder peal! Look! Blazen’ light’nin’ threat’nin’ ruin— Oh, backslider, how you feel? Drap on yo? knees an’ go to prayin’, Ax de Lawd to he’p you out. Chile, tell him you’s a lam’ a strayin’— Done got los’ an’ stum'lin’ ’bout, An’ den you'll sce de stars a gleamin’-— *Luminatin’ all de way. Yea, "bout ten thousan’ twinklin’, beamin’— Smack untwell de break er day, But ef you fall, debbil git you, Fotch you slip! right tn yo! eye, You'll feel mos’ ike er grape shot Nit you, Drapp’d Yom halt way to de sky! RoBeRtT MCGEE. ——_—__-+-____ ‘The Man Who Boxed. From the Detroit Free Press. There are scores of respectable and reputable heads-of families in this city who take regular lessons in the manly art of self-defence, and who spend an hour every evening in swinging clubs and otherwise developing and hardening the muscle. One of the most enthusiastic of the lot had finished his boxing lesson the other night, when the trainer eald: “T am sorry to lose your money and your com- pany. but I feel it my duty to say that I can learn you nothing further. You have got the science and muscle to clean out a crowd, and heaven help the man who stands before you!” The citizen went home with a consciousness that only cowards carry revolvers, and he won- dered how a man would look after he had given him a sock dologer straight from the shoulder. The next morning as he was leaving his house along came a strawberry man who was yelling his wares at the top of his voice. “Do you sell any more berries for yelling in that manner ?” asked the citizen, as the peddler drew rein. : “Oh, take in your nose?” was the reply. “So me one will take your whole body in some day a But it won't be a man with a wart on his chin!” 'o impndence, sir!” And none from you, either!” “You deserve a good thrashing!” “And perhaps you can give it to me!” There was a golden opportunity. The one had seience—the other impudence. The one had received thirty-eight lesssons in boxing—the other fairly ached to be pounded. “Don’t talk that way to me or “I'll knock you down,” said the finished pupil as -he gentl: threw himselfin position to mash a brick wall. ee 738 will, eh? Then let’s see you do I!” en what took 5 bel kicked on the shins, struck on the chin and twisted over a horse block after he fell, but when consciousness returned his wife and westraw-bu- oy big & Dated tile ony ‘two shillings for a big quart without any thumb in it.” po eat labt taktteet Dra Famous Railway Hecently Opened: The mountains of Switzerland have been re- echoing the rejoicings of three nations—the Italians, Swiss and Germans—who gave them- selves a rendezvous to celebrate the opening to the public of the Gotthard railway. The fol- are the enormous of the a taln:—" ae Tock, and has been com; innel —choke us up. These area God- wad, ably eunate half noua of them.” Is wheat nice and plum) “Plump! Why plump family, want bread we of wheat and I don’t know what you call wheat, but there are seventeen in our | line is one of including ten and when we | direct Wn. L. Married or Single? From the N. ¥. Graphic. The question has assumed considerable im- Portance—‘‘ Shall married women, no matter how well qualified as teachers for the young, be turned out of the public :chools to give place to unmarried teachers?” Or shall the woman fortunate enough to find 8 husband be debarred the exercise of a calling where she is doing good. because the husband !s able to make for her the burden of life easier? Or must the public schools give unmarried woinen employment in preference to married women? Why should the penalty of marriage for the woman be exclusion froma work for which nature ay have peculiarly fitted her ? hy should the benefit of her services be lost to the community because she is a wife and a mother? Is teaching a merely mechanical fanction, not requiring special talent or abllity ? The agitation of this question has involved for the married man the charge of “lack of man- hood” ifhe accepts support fromthe woman. Sup- pose nature better qualifies the woman in some calling to earn money than the man? Suppose that, in sympathy, companionship, congeniality and similarity of taste these two find in each other their ideal of-compantonship? Suppose that the man’s sympathy is a necessity and a rest to the woman? Is he to be charged with “lack of manhood” for accepting the position he fills? Suppose such a woman is in charge of an educational institution and possessed of busi- ness and executive capacity, and after years of waiting finds the man possessed of neither, yet which bring qualities which aid her in her work and she marries him, shall he be taunted with “lack of manhood” because he has found the lace. the calling and the ‘ner where he may st develop and exercise his peculiar talent? What is the motive for following teaching asa profession onthe part of the women who argue thatthe married teachers should be dis- charged? Is that motive a pure love of their calling? Is their art paramount to everything else? Is it of such importance in their eyes that for it they are willing to forsake houses and lands and father and mother, and if neces- sary even a prospective husband, who will sup- Port them on condition that they forsake the work to which nature has called them? And if such young women should plainly see that the married woman they would supplant is fitted for her profession, that she has that in- nate capacity for imparting knowledge and sug- gesting ideas which no mere training can give; if they see that she is united to a man who sym- pathizes with her in her pursuit, that they are partners and are able to afford each other help in their calling, will this young woman demand the withdrawal of the married woman from the place, where she is doing good, because she needs the pay appertaining to that place? If “lack of manhood” is charged onthe man for accepting support from the qualified woman, May not a countercharge of lack of ‘woman- hood” have some weight when there is taken into consideration the woman who accepts ex- pensive support from the man simply becausehe is her husband—who marries him for his money, who regards him merely as the treasury on which to draw for shoes, dresses and jewelry? Are there such women? The exigencies and situations peculiar to the feminine organization are also urged against the retention of married women as teachers. But all this enters into the economy of human exist- ence. If maternity was phenomenal, illegal and under all circumstances improper, there might be force in their objection. Good taste will dic- tate what is proper in this matter. But if the married woman is to be entirely banished from the school room and the whole bias and_influ- ence of education lett to the unmarried, then there will be eliminated an important element and influence in the public school. The teacher who is a mother and who knows the responsibilities of motherhood is possibly better fitted to convey certain influences for good upon the young than can any unmarried woman. Banish the mother element from the public school and there is banished a m and influence i+ st important for such children. Arithmetic, grammar and geography do not con- stitute all of education. Something of duty, of morality, of delicacy, of a higher refinement, of a true sense of purity needs also’ to be incul- cated. and for this the womanly mother and teacher is especially fitted. However, the best teacher t; one who has given up all else for the work of teaching. She will be neither a married woman nor a Woman who wishes to be married. But such teachers are not to be found in the ordinary public school. +9 Self-Interest. W. H. Mallock in The Contemporary Review. No action is possible unless prompted by some form of self-interest; indeed, self-interest is but another name for motive. Motives, however, are various, therefore self-interest is of various kinds. The commoner form {s the desire for fame, power or riches, and, except in a few special cases, this desire is essential to the pro- duction of any public beneficence. When the beneficence is confined to a smaller circle, other causes come into play. We have to deal with the affection, with good nature, with family pride and with class teeling; and self-interest by each of these is conditioned in a certain way. Thus, in the case of family pride, it Is merely a case of extended egotism—of an egotism which is capable of being extended thus to a certain degree, but to a certain degree only. All this the inquirer will have to note; but for the present it will be enough if we consider public beneticence oply. Now, it will be found that there are three classes of action which are of good to the world at large, and which are ap- parent exceptions to the doctrine of self-interest. I refer to artistic pro- duction, to the search for knowledge, and to the ineuication of religious or moral goodness. And these are not apparent exceptions only; to some extent they are real ones. The question is, to what extent? The religions motive it will fake too long to discuss, 80 we willlet that pass. We will only touch upon the artistic and the scientific motives. Now, no one will fora moment deny that there is a delight to the artist in the very fact of pro- duction, and that there is a delight to the man of science in the very fact of discovery. Indeed, when the one is painting a great picture, or the other discovering a new planet, there is noth- ing, Brotenly, of self-interest present to the consciousness of either. This, however, goes for httle. Let ustry an experiment. Let an- other artist clatm the picture, let another astron- omer claim the discovery of the planet, and the indignation of the injured ‘les will afford a singular revelation to us. It will show us that in each case, although at the time it was unsus- cted, there was self-interest working and giv- ing life to the other motives. The artist feels not only that a great picture is being painted, but he feels, “It is I that am painting it;” and the astronomer feels similarly, ‘It is I that am discovering this planet.” Thus, some form of self-interest is essential to all great deeds, and the deeds are great in proportion to its charac- ter and vitality. We shall find that, whereas the self-interest proper to art, science, or philosophy, is con- cerned merely with prestige, all other forms ot self-interest are concerned with political power, with riches and with material elevation; and we shall find a parespopains difference inthe social results produced by these two classes of motive. We shall find that the more, abstract, or, as we may call it the jetta form, never produces re- sults that are of direct popular benefit. It pro- duces discoveries, but it does not produce in- ventions; it may lead to the understanding of economic laws, but it will never lead to the establishment of any special trade or manu- facture; it may produce a great architect, but it will never produce a builder; it may lead men to form theories of government, but it will never produce an active and successful statesman. Bran Beds for the Babics. From the London Globe. A French doctor has invented a new bed for Natural Histery. From the Detroit Free Press. “What sort of a bird is this?” “This isan English sparrow. He cannot carry offa lamb, like the eayle, nor is he with teeth and claws like the tiger, but he Teaves his mark all the same.” “Bow did he get here?” “A philanthropist him over from = wath Pht pist brought Eng. “What isa lanthropist?” “He is 5 wah @ lunatic and an “What did he want to bring the sparrow to America for?” “Because he hated the country and wanted re- venge. It wasn’t enough for him that we have smallpox, yellow fever,cholera, droughts, floods, cyclone and forest fires and grasshopper plagues. “What are the chief merits of the yw?” “His beautiful voice and lovable nature. His song is so much sweeter than a file rasping ~~ = that people have died after hear- ing it.” “How does he employ his time?” “In screaming, fighting and voting early and often, “Where does he build his nest?” “In the cornices of houses. If he could have the use of 1,000 trees rent free he would turn up his nose at the offer. He couldn’t damage a tree any, but he can make it necessary to paint a house every mortth.' f what is his nest composed?” ‘Of everything he can handle, except old oyster cans and empty beer bottles.” “Does the hard hearted citizen ever destroy those nests?” “He does. When his famlly clothes line, or crow bar, or long handled shovel is missing he pulls down a nest and recovers the lost article.” “What does the poor sparrow do then?” “He rebuilds.” “Can he be discouraged?” “It his nest was pulled down 15,000 or 20,000 times he might commence to feel down hearted, but those who have routed him out 500 or 600 times have not seen him even change countenance.” “What other birds does he with: “The buzzard and the polecat. He is too proud to take up with every stranger who comes along. He has driven avey our robins and bluebirds and larks. and chickadees, and even the hens are looking for another opening.” “Would it be wicked to kill one of these spar- Tows?” “Awfally wicked. The philanthropists would raise such a howl that the killer would have to skip the country. Beside, you can’t shoot ’em, they won't be poisoned, and no one ever yet trapped one. A man down in Ohio thinks a blow with a barn door might fetch ’em, but it is as yet an untried experiment.” “That isall for thistime. Let us now lay away our books and sit on the steps and listen to the ravishing melody of the sparrow’s even- ing song.” ——— Church Bells in England. From the London Times, May 23. London to-day acquires a new distinction. Its cathedral church will boast the biggest bell in the kingdom, and one of the dozen biggest in the world. Guide-books will give the fact due prominence, and tourists will pause,as the hours come round, to distinguish the solemn note in a babel of sounds. It cannot be sald that till a quarter of Seentny, ago Londoners missed the privilege, or wished the hours and royal deaths tobe announced in louder thunder. They were generally under the impression that their own bell was a very big one, and a very fine one. Few of them, however, had heard the bourdons that do every duty abroad, and that, we know not why, beat our own largest bells in the sol- emnity of their tones. They were also unac- quainted with the history of St. Paul's bell, which is, we believe, only a recast of that over the old gateway to Westminster. In this coun- try, too, the taste for bells has gone into an en- tirely different direction from that of the whole continent. Christians are here generally called to service by chimes, instead of the tolling of a sing ell, as is usual abroad. Our chief use of bellS¥¥ for bell-ringing,almost unknown abroad. To be sure, in Belgium, all the great churches have carillons every hour, and in some cases every quarter—many every half-quarter. At Antwerp, Malines and Ghent, it may be said the bells are always going, andat the first of these cities one may occasionally hear a long piece played on a hundred or more bells. But, upon the whole, the continent. tolls bells; we ring and chime them. The Reformation was the great point of divergence. At that date, and long after, the popular party in our parishes melted the big bells into smaller ones, convert- tg peals of three into five or six; and, upon the whole, the big bell went out of favor. Popular feeling must have been against big bells, or at least very indifferent, when Henry VIII. could stake and lose at a game ot cards allthe old bells of St. Paul’s. There has long been a reaction. For a cent our vill church bells have been increasing in weight as well as number, as a large proportion of our church towers testify by their Shattered state. Parliament itself has contri- buted a great impulse to the change of feeling by building the tallest clock in the kingdom, agd by trying to furnish it with a fitting peal of bells." It has unaccountably failed so far, Big Ben No.1 having been condemned from the first; No. 2 having been found incapable of standing the blows of its own clapper. The reason or this is a mystery in which a wise man will not rashly intrude. Bell-founders stand on their honor, and resent any reflection on their skill, or on the casting, as one well-known amateur has found to his cost. So we must have time to explain why failures, that one does not hear of abroad, should be taken as almost a matter of course in this country. ———_ ro. The Sutcher-Cart Game. Superintendent Walling, of New York, was asked if the plan of the assassination in the Pheenix Park resembled, in respect of the ar- rangements of the murderers to reach their vic- tims and then effect their escape, the plan adopted in New York by that daring and pro- verbially successful class known as ‘“butcher- cart thieves.” Well, applying the ‘“butcher- cart” theory, 1 should call it an American, or, perhaps, a New York “job.” We cali these robberies ‘‘butcher-cart” robberies, but many that have happened here have been done with four-whegl vehicles. Take the Ruppert robbery; that was done with a covered wagon, in which half a dozen men could have been concealed. I cannot remember to have read or heard of “‘butcher-cart” robberies in Europe, and believe that few have occurred outside of New York and its environs. This style of robbery started many years ago in a petty way. Herds of swine ran at in the streets of New York, and thieves would lire a horse, generally a good one, and a wagon; they would then drive to where there was a herd of swine, capture one of them, throw it in the wagon and drive off. They were seldom caught. The hog-stealing business was improved upon intime. It merged into the business of driving up to a store, seizing a case or package of goods, throwing it into a wagon and getting away in a flash. Then came the business of ‘standing up” men in the street. This began about twenty years ago. I remember its start. There were several petty cases. and then a bank messenger was robbed of alarge amount, on pa- per, in the vicinity of Wall street, by a gang who operated with a sleigh and a fast horse. The scheme was in time perfected, and such cases are the most annoying that fall to our lot. The gang first look after the horse. good one and well trained. and a driver, detection should be all the more easy. Now, the Goody gang, for instance, have always owned a first- horse, and the Phenix ark murderers may one and rained it for months. For a “butcher-cart” a erry and ak ceed oy ®. commo-. tion or a pistol shot, and get off at full the moment job is done and the ro! are clambering into the vehicle. in Hoses. DRY GOODs. Woorwaxn « Loranor, va. PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, =m SCOTCH LACE GINGRAMS, at 25e. per yard, Recently sold at 450, Elegant Styles PRINTED SATTEENS, ‘Reduced to 373¥c. per yard. A Splendid Quality of PRINTED LINEN LAWNS, at 12}¢. per yard, worth 170. 4 25¢. Quality PRINTED LINEN LAWNS, at lTc. per yard. Fine Quality all pure LINEN PRINTED LAWNS, at 2lc. per yard. ABOVE ARE SPECIAL BARGAINS. BOSTON DRY GOODS HOUSE, Se3 W. M. SHUSTER & SO) . HAVE A LARGE STOCK OF CHOICE PARASOLS WHICH HAVE BEEN REDUCED IN PRICE AND WILL BE SOLD VERY Low. PONGEE PARASOLS in great variety. BLACK and COLORED PARASOLS in choice styles. Great inducements arvoffered in FOULARD SILKS, DRESS GOODS, GRENADINE! ARD EMBROIDERED ROBES, SPANISH LACES, GUIPURE EMBROID- ERIES, 'BATISTE ROBES, &c. MOURNING G y pMOURNING GOODS of every deseription and in the We can show 5 pleces of Beautiful SATINS at 500. very choice designs in these very desirable LINEN LAWNS (pure linen) at 20c, © One Paice. W. M. SHUSTER & SONS, 919 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. THE BEST IS THE CHEAPEST. SUPERIOR QUALITY. del CHOICE DESIGNS. 50 Pi (NEN LA’ at 25c., avis PURE LI .WNS, reduced 4-4 FRENCH BATISTES, in for Combination Suits, at 250. ‘Bew PARIS SATINES, in scl Best Quality MERV LAWNS, at 1c. FOULARD SILKS, at 75c., reduced from §1. Rare Bargains in SUMMER SILKS. Bich BLACK SILK GRENADINES, at 61.25 and $1.50 BLACK SATIN RHADAMES, from $1 to $3. BLACK SILKS, best mak ibe, to ices” on. ZINE DRESS SHINTS, $1. GAUZE UNDERWEAR, LISLt GLOVES. LADIES' LINEN AND’ MOHAIR DUSTERS. ““Special Attractions’ ypular Prices. CHUDDA and SHETLAND SHAWLS. Pe EXBROLDERED “CASHMERE FICHUS, mn FLANNELS for Bathing Suits. 52" Pram Ficunes axp Connect Prices. "in New WHITE GOODS at DRY GOODS. ‘TH® FIRST STORY OF OUR IMMENSS) BUILDING 18 UP. ‘Tt will now be pushed forward with dispatch. We must prepare for removal. No old goode will be taken into the new store, We intend making it an ob» dect for every lady who is now in need, or who is soon Kkely to be in need of Spring and Summer DRE GOODS, to call and examine the EXTRAORDINARY BARGAINS Weare now offering. On accountof the backwarinew) of the season, we are left with too many goods on hand, ‘We have determined to eeil them, and sell them wo will, ‘as we are bound to raise lots of money to pay for build- ing and to lay in stock for our grand opening, second to none in the country, We have just redneed all our COLORED DOLLAB BILKS to 75 cents, Our BLACK PURE SILK KHADAMES, from $1.6@ to 95 cents, 25 Picces most beautiful Patterns of ALL SILK BROCADES, from $1.50 to 95 cents. This is @ rare Barzain and cannot be repeated. Allour Dress Goods way down to half price, 6,000 Pieces WHITE GOODS of every description, ‘These are of our own importation, having ordered aid a ee i a them as far back as last November. We miscalou= "888g ER AA ES QENN Inted the quantity and oriered more than our retail Bgcc8 Exx AA T Poo NMR trade demands. Therefore, be it known that price PPP FER RRR RRR VY ¥ shal be no chjeck, and they mast on, POPE RRR RY ¥ PPP KE RRR RRR YY Bb Eek BEE ¢ = Speco eopaletshicotsetiid ve cents, which ts retailed everywhere at 12} cent (Buccessor to Perry & Brother, ) Pennsylvania avenue, corner 9th stroat. Established 1840. Je10 Woopwarp & LOTHROP, — 921 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. 92 RIBBON DEPARTMENT. 6-in. White and Blue Watered SASH RIBBONS, at 0c. per yard, 370. per yard. SPECIAL BARGAINS, which can not be Duplicated! BOSTON DRY GOODS HOUSE. 3e13 6-in. Rink Striped Satin and Moire SASH RIBBONS, at Do not consider this idle talk, Every lady in Washe ington knows the magnitude of our stock, which we cap safely state is three times as large as the etock of any other merchant in this city. Therefore, prepare for Bargains! As by the time we move into our NEW Aout FIGURED SATINES, CHOICE DESIGNS ARE BECOMING SCARCE; ORDERS GIVEN EARLY IN THE SEASON ENABLE US TO OFFER THE FINEST GRADES IN NEW PATTERNS AT 50 CENTS, TYLER & CHEWNING, Je10 918 77m BTREET NORTHWEST. OODWARD & LOTHROP, PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. GLOVE DEPARTMENT, ‘We have just opened a line of SILK MOUSQUETAIRE GLOVES, In6, 8 and 10 Button lengths, in Black and Terra Cotta Shades, now the desirable thing in Glove wear. Please examine, at the BOSTON DRY GOODS HOUSE. 921 921 3e13 HOUSE, we expect to reduce the stock to the smallest ia the city. The Goods are all fresh, having sent all our old trash to New York auction, to be sold to the highest bidder. Call early in the morning to syoid the immense Tush. LANSBURGH & BROTHER, 404 AND 406 SEVENTH STREET NORTHWEST, mi3 GOODS. H™ FOR THE SEASIDE AND MOUNTAINS, We have just received the LATEST PARISIAN STYLES, sultable for the Seaside and Mountaing, which we will exhibit during the coming week. MRS. M. J. HUNT, 1309 F street northwest 3010 Ov IMMENSE ASSORTMENT OF NEW AND BEAUTIFUL LAWNS, FIGURED FRENCH LAWNS, FIGURED LINEN LAWNS, FIGURED AMERICAN LAWNS. ‘The largest assortment of white all Linen Lawns only 4 Colored Silks, navy blue, dark green and other col- o ‘Handsome Black Brocade Silks reduced from $1.50 Sisk Eilks, immense assortment, 50, 62, 75, 87 cts., Stiingian STE Sata, Gas ns Bleached Table Damask, all linen, 500. Dinner Napkins, all linen, ‘5c. dozen. Double White Blankets’ $2. ee fi = wiuack,and Colored Cashnicres, pure wool, double Nun's veiling, pure wool, (in pink, )25e. jored Cashmeres, in pink and light biue, 50c. Fine Sin end Wout Had “Grenadine reduced to $l, 2iun’s Veiling, (black, ) all pure wool, 25c. CARTER’S, 711 MARKET SPACE. Las '- Towns in Washington. Pure ME. J. P. PALMER, 1107 F STREET NORTHWEST, ‘Wil Open on WEDNESDAY NEXT, May 24th, Her Importation of SUMMER BONNETS AND HATS, Comprising all the Iatost of color ut received ff0in the lending houses of rou rope. No cards. tion of Ea ™m20 DOUGLASS’, HOOPSKIRTS AND BUSTL OUR OWN MAKEOF THE FINEST WA’ STEEL, 50c, UP. ANY STYLE AND HOOPSEIRTS OF S-RERUSE™ STRET, 2c. A fine French Woven CORSET at $1, usually sold at ‘A Fine Erench Ooutie HehA-mele CORSET, ot Gl. ‘This corset is sold es ‘corset is sold in other cities a a ie es ‘We have one special lot of Children’ HOSE, in Cardizal, Blue and Brown, at 25c, Would be Ss. SPRING SIZE DOUGLASS’, axD ¥ STREETS mld Se | neta, Flowers, Plumes, ete. ‘Old LAD! and BONN Ps a (E'S CAPS a speciaity. 618 Sls ATTINGS, MATTINGS, MATTINGS, IN GREAT VAKIETY OF STYLES. LOOSE COVERS SS eee by our Philadel- WINDOW SHADES, LACE CURTAINS AND UPHOLSTERY GOODS: In Great Varicty. CARPETS AT REDUCED PRICES. SINGLETON & HOEKE, 801 MARKET SPACE. for STEAM CARPET All orders. prompt attention. OCDWARD & LOTHROP, PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. DRESS GOODS DEPARTMENT. 921 921 at 50c., 623¢c., 680., T5c., and $1 per yard. All Good Valnes. BOSTON DRY GOODS HOUSE. Je13 CLEANING receive my26 paren HATS AND FINE MILLINERY GOODS; SILK AND CLOTH WRAPS; ILK, FLANNEL and CAMBRIC SUITS, the largeat azidoet cant earuneu tin the city, made exclue my M. WILLIAN, 907 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. als see SEIN ASHIONATEE AND TRIMMING STORE, eof STARA Borate at sbixt uation "Ladies ten fiare' Drones seh and bastea, cs teed. Ms ANNIE K. HUMPHERY, 430 TENTH STREET NORTHWEST, erceeeog sto ome BPECIALITES ‘Merino Underwear ‘nderclothing, Hodery and all Dress Reform Goods. ‘The **Hercules” French Corsets and Bustles. Coreat, for whick Miss Hi. te spocial Sida Gt Gorwct, ber own make, that for the price N.B.—French, German and Spanish spoken. J HOUSEFURNISHINGS. 709 JUST OPENED 709 A few choice pieces of Haviland & Co's an other Fancy Goods sultatde for pramnta,